


Steady Now

by Anonymous



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, M/M, Pining, Underage Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 12:31:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt response: Stiles has developed a most unlikely crush on his best friend's boss. Quiet, calm, patient. What's a boy to do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steady Now

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> Stiles has developed a most unlikely crush on his best friend's boss. It's just... The guy is always so quiet, so calm, so patient... He's this strong presence and his eyes look so wise. Stiles can't help himself any longer. He yearns for the silent man! He wants to ruffle this unruffleable person! He just... He seriously can NOT get Deaton off his mind!!!
> 
> I hope I did alright by you Nonny. Enjoy!
> 
>  **EDIT:** I went back a re-read this and was completely horrified by my grammar and some misspelled (and a couple misplaced) words. It's fixed now.

Stiles loves to watch him work. Always has. Ever since that very first day; crashing into the clinic to visit Scott on his very first day at his _brand new job_. They were only fourteen then.

He spent the majority of that year stuck between being elated that he was finally getting over the unattainable perfection that was Lydia Martin, and horror that his new crush was just as unattainable (he was more than ten years older than him), and confusion over finding a guy attactive.

By fifteen Stiles had come to terms with the idea that he was bisexual. He began a new trend of annoying the absolute crap out of Danny Mahealani by continually asking him if he was attractive to gay guys. Believe it or not, that shit _was_ funny. He spent enough time around the clinic that year with Scott that Dr. Deaton started giving him work to do if he was there for more than an hour. Stiles became very good at watching without looking like he was. Oh, he'd had plenty of practice with watching. Lydia was an exceptional subject... but Deaton was more. He was always so quiet. Calm and patient with the animals. Steady and firm.

Stiles abandoned his five-year plan to make Lydia fall in love with him that year. The plan instead, became a ten-year plan. The subject? Alan Deaton, Doctor of Veterinarian Medicine.

At sixteen the whole world tipped onto its axis. Scott became a werewolf, and suddenly there were supernatural oogedy boogedies crawling all over Stiles' life. Deaton came into sharper focus the moment he told Stiles that he was a Spark. Stiles found a new facet to this fascinating man who spent most of his days helping animals. He was wise. He had knowledge. He was willing to share it, but he would make you work for it. You had to be willing to _learn_. Knowing this, Stiles realized that he was, in point of fact, quite in love.

The plan was to swan off to college, double major in history and literature and then come back to town towing a bright, shiny college degree. He would then proceed to woo Deaton. Slowly but steadily worming his way into a place in the man's life. He was yet undecided whether he wanted to open a book store, or perhaps teach at UC Beacon Hills. He figured he would have time to decide which while he was at Berkeley.

Then he was kidnapped by a geriatric hunter. Gerard Argent had thoroughly cleaned his clock. Then, head spinning, and with too little time to be had, he was crashing his beloved Jeep through a wall into a warehouse. Scott had lied to him, Peter was alive, Lydia was still sort of crazy and Jackson was a werewolf.

Stiles spent that summer split between running after the Puppy Brigade, researching on his own, and randomly showing up to ask Deaton questions. Deaton of course answered, but only because he could always tell that Stiles wasn't asking for the answers to be handed to him. He wanted clarification on this point or that thing. He was well on his way to finding his own answers, thanks.

Stiles turned seventeen and the fall semester started.

There were Alphas (a whole pack of them) and a Darach. Stiles was going insane over the slap fight Scott and Derek were engaging in. Then Derek basically died and his best friend almost lit himself on fire. Somewhere between that and Deaton almost being sacrificed (thank the holy hand grenade his dad got there on time) Stiles stopped going to the clinic. Oh, he didn't mean to; but between this, that and the other thing, it just got lost.

Maybe that was why he was just straight up losing his mind? Lydia (dear, sweet, ferocious Lydia) had been the one to hold him under the water that night. Stiles worshipped the ground she walked on, but he wasn't overly invested emotionally. He was seventeen and going crazy. There were werewolves and who knew what else. Peter was out there running around concocting no doubt evil plans.

Stiles gripped the steering wheel hard in both hands, gazing up at the door to the clinic. He'd been spending quite a bit of time with Deaton lately, learning to meditate, to steady himself. Trying to close the door he'd opened in his mind. He opened the car door and jumped out of the Jeep, heading for the door of the clinic.

Just once. _Once_. He wanted something just because he wanted it. Damn the consequences. If this went right (here's hoping) he only had to wait a few more months until he was eighteen. If it didn't? Well, no one would ever need to know. Stiles would hide under his bed until college.

The bell above the door jingled as Stiles entered the clinic. "Doc?" he called.

"Stiles?" Deaton's voice came from the back. Stiles made his way past the counter toward the treatment room.

Deaton was wiping down the table. It looked like he was finishing up and getting ready to go home for the night. He looked up when Stiles entered the room. "Is everything OK, Stiles?"

"No" Stiles said. "Everything's not okay."

"What is it?" Deaton questioned, setting aside the spray bottle of disinfectant and stripping off his gloves.

"I need to say something to you. And I need to you to not say anything until I'm done, OK?"

"All right."

"I'm losing my mind. I'm going bugfuck crazy, and before I end up in a straight jacket in a little padded room somewhere I need to say this. I need you to know that this is me talking and not some loony. I mean every word." Stiles inhaled deeply "I think you're beautiful. You're smart and patient. The animals love you because you're kind. You're wise, you know all kinds of things but you make me work for answers, and I totally dig that. You're like this tall, gorgeous pillar of steadiness." Stiles was heading into babble-land, but he couldn't stop now "And I'm two years into my ten-year plan to win you over. I haven't gone to college yet, and I still can't decide if I want to open a book store or teach college or something. I'm seventeen, but I'll be eighteen soon and I'm completely over the moon for you - pun totally intended because that is our lives. I love your bald head and your kind eyes an- "

Stiles' breath stopped. His hands stopped flailing mid-air. Hovering. His eyes widened, then drifted closed. His world narrowed to two points. To Alan Deaton's big hands cradling his head. To Alan Deaton's lips on his. Stiles melted. He turned into a gooey pile of teenage boy at Deaton's feet. His hands came down to grip the vet's shoulders as he returned the kiss. Deaton took this as his cue to slant his head and deepen the kiss. Stiles bit off a moan. Deaton's hands slid from Stiles' face, down his arms, to his hips. Stiles slung one arm around the man's neck and gripped a handful of his shirt in the other.

They pulled away from each other to breathe. They stood there, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other's air.

"Am I hallucinating?"

Alan chuckled, and Stiles felt it in his fingertips. "No, Stiles."

"Thank god" Stiles muttered, and pressed his lips against Alan's again.

Two hands slid down, gripping handfulls of Stiles' backside. The vet pulled upward and Stiles took that as his cue to hop a little. The hop aided Alan as he hauled Stiles upward, and Stiles wrapped his legs around the other man's waist. Alan turned and in two steps was setting Stiles down on the exam table. He settled comfortably between the younger man's thighs. They exchanged a few more kisses.

"You're not going to go crazy."

"I'm not?"

"No."

"We're going to fix it?"

"Yes."

Another kiss.

"You're going to tell me all about this ten year plan of yours."

Stiles grinned against Alan's lips "Deal."

**Author's Note:**

> I just shipped a ship that's never even crossed my mind before. I hope the fluffies were fluffy enough and that it meets expectations.
> 
> *returns back into the shrubs of the Preserve from whence she came*


End file.
